Between Love and Lies
by brucas025
Summary: Lucas Scott is caught somewhere between the love of his life and the lies he tells his heart. *BRUCAS*
1. Prologue

He hadn't planned this

_IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ:_**Hi everyone. I know I shouldn't be writing a new story, but I have been in my free time. It's taken me awhile to get the first two chapters done, not because I lose interest or don't know where to go, but because I've been trying really hard to make this really detailed and as close to perfect as I can… That, and the fact that I have a lot going on in my real life despite how much I love writing OTH (Brucas) fanfiction. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't want everyone hanging onto a story and hoping for extremely fast updates, but I figured what the hell.**

**Just know that if you're reading this, I can't make any guarantees about when the next chapter or any chapter for that matter, is gonna be up. I'm taking my time on this one no matter how many inspiring, great reviews I get.**

**But anyway… if you're willing to bear with me….**

**Enjoy!**

**--x-x-x--**

He hadn't planned this.

If you asked him who he was in love with, he'd tell you it was Lindsey. Hell, if it wasn't Lindsey, why would he be marrying her in a week? Why would he have proposed to her in the first place if it didn't feel _right_? Why would he sleep next to her every night, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively, a smile planted on both of their faces?

If you asked him, he was madly in love with Lindsey.

But everyone else had a different opinion.

Everyone around him had tried to convince him that he and Peyton were still meant to be together, even after not seeing each other for five years. Suddenly, Peyton was back in town and everyone, including the blonde girl, had expected him to destroy what he had built with Lindsey to give her another chance.

If you asked him, he and Peyton had ended before they had even started. Their so-called relationship started as an almost-fling, had escalated into a love triangle and had burned out when Lucas realized that there was more to Brooke Davis than her reputation gave her credit for. Even when they had dated after he and Brooke had broken up, there was still nothing but lies. He had lied to her about how he felt but worst of all, he had lied to himself.

If you asked him, the only reason he had ever ended up with Peyton during the end of senior year was because Brooke, along with the rest of his friends and family, had told him that she was _the one_ for him. Brooke had gone as far as shoving her own emotions to the side to give him and Peyton a chance. She left him. Flat out left him. After everything the pair had gone through to make their relationship work, she was ready to give up, leaving him with empty bullshit reasons on why she had to do this, his mouth hanging open in utter shock. He had been speechless. How could she just let him go?

So, eventually, Lucas had begun dating Peyton after coming to the realization that Brooke wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, because, as according to everyone, he and Peyton were meant to be. He could say he had developed feelings for her, but that would be a lie. He had only been with Peyton for two reasons: to heal his heart from his breakup with Brooke and because everyone told him that it was where he should've been.

Now, it was the same thing. He was with Lindsey, he _loved_ Lindsey, yet people, including Brooke once again, were still pushing for Peyton. But he knew better.

Peyton didn't take 'no' very well. And after her latest confession that clarified the _real_ reason for the downfall of Brooke-and-Lucas, he wasn't even sure if they were fit to be friends, much less soul mates.

But that was a different story.

Right now, all he could think about was how he had fucked up, yet again. And once again because of Lucas's uncertainty and actions, someone's heart was going to end up broken.

The only problem was that he wasn't sure whose heart it was: Lindsey's, his… or maybe even Brooke's.

Although he'd never admit it, he had never _truly_ let go of Brooke Davis. How could he? After she had left him, claiming that he and Peyton's 'kiss' during the shooting back in high school had been the reason, he had never quite gotten over it. To him, the reason was a load of shit. There was something behind it she wasn't telling him. He tried to find it, tried to push her to the point where she'd break down and confess why she'd _really_ given up on them, but he couldn't. He chased Brooke for three months before he realized: if Brooke had her mind set on not telling him, she would die with her lips sealed. Especially if it meant protecting someone she loved.

He sat on the edge of the bed in his room, the blankets crumpled sloppily around him. Another reminder. Lindsey was in New York, doing a few last things for the wedding. He ran his hands through his messy blonde hair. This action had become habit around the time he and Brooke had gotten together for the second time. Although he loved that girl with all of his heart, there was no reasoning or rationalizing with her when she had an opinion. Their countless, yet completely meaningless, arguments had made him want to pull his hair out and somewhere along the line, the figure of speech had turned into a literal action: pulling at his hair when Brooke drove him crazy. Sometimes, it was bad craziness. Like when she'd accuse him of brooding over Peyton's latest drama, even when all he was thinking about was how gorgeous his _girlfriend_ looked that day.

But most of the time, it was the type of craziness that he fell in love with. The type of craziness that made him get a tattoo; a permanent reminder of the girl who had stolen his entire heart, yet had never fully given it back. The type of craziness that made him have to fight the urge to push her against a wall and kiss her senseless, even in the middle of school. The type of craziness that made him miss her when she wasn't near, even after they'd been broken up for five and a half years.

Tonight, she had been wearing red.

Red was her signature color, and because of it, he was partial to seeing it on anyone else.

Brooke had been wearing a red thong that first night in the bar. Although this hadn't been significant at the time because, quite frankly, the fact that he had Brooke Davis up against an alley wall was significant in its own right, he had come to realize that that piece of lingerie had started it all. _He had finally shown Tree Hill his true basketball talents. His prize? A naked Brooke Davis in his backseat._ _"How many moments in life can you point to and say, '__That_'s when it all changed_?'" she murmured from behind him. _She had been wrong. The moment in the bar. _That_ is when it all truly changed for Lucas.

Then, there was the red dress she had worn to the basketball appreciation dinner at the beginning of junior year and the fiery-red lipstick that her lips were drenched in, matching the dress flawlessly. He had had his eyes on Peyton that night, but there was no denying that Brooke looked phenomenal. He wasn't aware at that time either, but Brooke's love of red was going to leave a permanent streak across his heart.

Then, there was the she-devil costume that she wore to the masquerade party at Tric that same year; the costume she had designed. The satin-esque material of the barely-there dress hugged her curves making her look more beautiful than ever, and the feathers that adorned the waistline were enough to send Lucas over the edge right then and there, amongst all those people. It had been the time where Brooke had been playing the non-exclusive-card, still trying to see if Lucas was true or not after his first infidel fiasco. One of the feathers had fallen off her in the course of the night. He had saved it until this very day. It was still stuffed in his Brooke-box, among all of his other high school possessions that were stored in the attic of his house.

Then there was the red dress from Nathan and Haley's wedding. True, all of the bridesmaids wore the exact same dress, but Brooke had been the only one who could fully pull it off, with her chocolate curls cascading down her collar bone.

And then there was the red door that truly defined everything Brooke Davis epitomized. That red door stuck out like a flame smack in the middle of her white shingled house. Brooke _was_ that door. Amongst the plain, monotonous white mansion, the door was the one thing that you could distinguish from miles down the road. When it snowed and all of Tree Hill was covered in white powder, Brooke's door was still visible. Brooke was the same way. There was something about her that made her distinguishable in the largest of crowds. Maybe it was the hypnotizing way her body moved when she walked or danced. Or maybe it was her raspy voice that gave him chills every time he heard it. Maybe it was the fact that he could swear he heard her heart beating whenever they got close enough. There was just _something_ about Brooke Davis that he hadn't been able to completely capture in any other girl yet.

Red epitomized everything that Brooke Davis was.

Dangerous. Sexy. Wild. Fiery. Warm. Passionate.

But why she _had_ to wear red tonight was beyond Lucas's comprehension. Coincidence, his head told him. But his heart told him _fate_.

He ran his hands through his hair again, making sure he didn't move the bed too much. She had fallen asleep two hours prior, but he had laid, restless, staring up at the ceiling while she curled up to him for warmth. Now, after a quick splash of cold water on his face, he had found himself at the edge of the bed, his bare back to the small brunette that lay behind him.

Brooke had changed from the moment he and Peyton had made their "exclusiveness" official. She began running more and eating less. Her waist began to shrink even more, if that was even possible, and her collar and wrist bones began jutting out more than they should have. Of course people noticed, especially those who loved her, but she always waved a dismissive hand saying that it was due to the running and the excessive work. So eventually, people stopped asking.

Work. Work was what brought Brooke back to Tree Hill. If she hadn't decided to open up the Clothes Over Bros boutique in his mother's old café… if Peyton hadn't needed her to come home so she wouldn't have to face the blue eyed boy alone… Lucas was sure that the most he'd see of Brooke was in the tabloids. Of course she called. She spoke to their godson, Jamie, on a weekly basis and would occasionally call to check on Lucas. She kept the crew in Tree Hill posted on her latest fashion shows and successes, and Nathan and Haley had even flown to New York one weekend with Jamie in tow to see the latest collection being displayed at fashion week. They had begged Lucas and Lindsey to come, but he hadn't been sure if Lindsey could handle meeting the one girl that had changed his standards forever. Truth was, he wasn't sure _he _could handle it.

Although Brooke was miles away and their phone calls weren't exactly extensive, whenever he needed an opinion, he knew he could call her. She had even helped pick out Lindsey's engagement ring with him. He had sent her link after link and e-mail after e-mail of rings until he and Brooke had agreed on the perfect one.

Little did Lucas know that the beautiful platinum ring he had chosen for Lindsey was the one she would've chosen for herself, if she and Lucas were ever to get married.

But work was Brooke's life.

First, it was a small line for Victoria's Secret the summer after her senior year. Then, it was a line of t-shirts for Macy's. T-shirts escalated into dresses, and from there, an entire Clothes Over Bros by Brooke Davis collection including jeans, tops and accessories. After two years of success at Macy's, Brooke had decided to remove her couture line from there in order to open a series of her own boutiques. Macy's still sold the t-shirts, jeans and other daily-wear items, but now Clothes Over Bros stores were popping up anywhere that there was high fashion. New York, Los Angeles, Milan and Paris were included on the list. Somewhere on the timeline, Clothes Over Bros evolved into BPD Couture. C over B, she claimed, was a thing of high school that Macy's could gladly continue selling as long as she still had final say of the designs, prices and models used. BPD was Brooke's 'adult' line. Gowns cost thousands, and celebrities all over the red carpet clad themselves in Brooke's high-end line.

She had begun to slow down now that she had been in Tree Hill for a month, but she was still so thin. It hurt Lucas to see her so frail, but he hadn't tried to fix her. It wasn't his place anymore, and it would probably never be again.

Yet, she was still naked in his bed.

She stirred slightly as he adjusted himself, his bottom becoming numb from staying in the same position for such a long time. He heard her murmur something, and he whispered, "go back to sleep," in a soothing voice before returning to his brooding.

Brooding. He had never even thought of himself as a "brooder" until Brooke had come along. Hell, he had never seen himself as the type of guy who would enjoy having his girlfriend refer to him by nicknames. There were a lot of things he didn't know until Brooke came along.

She had made everything so _clear_.

As he continued to wonder why he had ever let her walk out of his room in the first place that night during senior year, he felt the bed move behind him. The movement was slow as she crept closer to him, supporting herself on all fours. He could feel her behind him, but he didn't dare turn around.

If he turned around, he would have to face her hazel eyes. Eyes that were begging for him to love _her_, and only her, even though she would never admit it, especially if it meant hurting not only Lindsey, but Peyton.

She rubbed her eyes slowly. "Hi," she murmured softly in her intoxicating voice.

"Hi," he whispered, as if trying to keep a secret. This felt wrong. Being here with Brooke felt wrong. So why couldn't he convince his heart to stop beating so fast?

She subconsciously thanked her lucky stars that Lucas remained in his position, his back still to her. Most girls would take it offensively, a guy they had just slept with refusing to make eye contact with them. But this was different. Right now, she didn't know if she could handle looking into those striking eyes. Not after what had happened tonight, at least.

With him facing away from her, she had courage. She could be the _real_ Brooke Davis; outgoing and seductive and gentle. If he looked at her, her walls would melt down with a glance and she would have to admit that she had missed him in a bigger way than she had thought.

She smirked momentarily, remembering the first time she had seen him. It was the middle of a basketball game and she and Peyton were on the sidelines cheering.

'_He looks good from behind,' she commented as she kinked her eyebrow subconsciously._

From behind, he looked good. From behind, he didn't have to be the Lucas Eugene Scott that had hurt her a million times over, yet who still managed to capture her with the smallest lies and most passionate kisses.

So, mustering her courage, she wrapped her arms around his body and pulled herself close to him. She rested her cheek on his muscular back and breathed him in. She held her breath for a moment, afraid that he would push her away, realizing that they had made a mistake. But instead, he placed his large, comfortable hands over her small ones. She let the breath out as she smiled to herself in satisfaction.

Maybe there was still hope.

He didn't understand why he did it, why he was compelled to touch her. His hands had minds of their own when she was around, wandering over her ever-shrinking arms, rubbing them protectively.

Her naked body was completely pressed upon his back. Although her flesh was warm, he couldn't help but shiver. Brooke Davis had that effect on him from day one.

Her skin against his was enough for him to become aroused again, but he mustered the last of his strength not to be.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to blur out the memory of the night that they had shared together only hours before. If he pressed them together tightly enough, maybe she wouldn't be there anymore. If he could only picture Lindsey's face instead of Brooke's behind his darkened eyelids, he would know that this had just been a mistake: unresolved emotions and the desperate need for closure. If he could just peel Brooke's hands off him and tell her that everything that had happened was a mistake, he would know that he wasn't going insane.

But his senses wouldn't cooperate. All he could touch, all he could taste, all he could see was Brooke Davis.

It's funny how things work sometimes.


	2. Chapter One

Brooke adjusted her red shirt with her free hand before ringing the doorbell

Brooke adjusted her red shirt with her free hand before ringing the doorbell. It took a minute, but she could hear Lucas pad towards the door lazily. She hadn't called to warn him that she was stopping by, but it didn't matter: she _was_ Brooke Davis, wasn't she? People expected her to do spontaneous things like this.

"Who is it?"

"Did somebody order a stripper?" she murmured in her sexiest voice, willing herself not to smile or giggle. Lucas recognized her voice, of course. How could he not? Who else had that irresistible rasp that kept you lingering on every single word that emerged from their lips?

He was clad only in a pair of old sweatpants. A shirt hadn't met his body all day. Lindsey had left the previous night, and with nothing for him to do, he found himself moseying around the house all day in his sloppiest outfit, trying to make a few words flow out of him, hoping he would have something in him besides burning 'what-ifs'. He wanted Lindsey to have something to come back to instead of the disappointment he had been lately. Something more than the washed-up one-hit writer.

She deserved that. Something that was the Lucas Scott she had met, not the one whose past had just stormed in on him from all directions. It had been two years since his first book, and there was increasing pressure from Lindsey's publishing company resulting in increasing pressure from Lindsey. She may have been his fiancée and editor, but that didn't excuse her for not producing product. Both of their livings depended on it. All he needed was some damn inspiration.

"Broody," Brooke said happily as she walked past Lucas into the familiar house, where she herself had lived for a short time, making her way to the kitchen. Lucas's mother had been away for the past year, traveling the world with Lucas's young sister, so he had inherited his childhood house for him and Lindsey with the familiarity of his childhood and high school years along with his mother's blessing.

Nothing had really changed about the house, she noticed. They had knocked down one of the walls in the kitchen making it slightly larger now that there was an engaged couple living in it who would probably be having kids in the future. _Planning ahead_, Lindsey had called it as she wrapped her arms around Lucas's neck, the bustle of men and noisy hammers somewhat audible through his head, clouded with visions of the strawberry blonde.

She placed the large brown paper bag down on the kitchen table and began emptying it of its contents.

Lucas watched, amused by her. She pulled out container after container of Chinese food. Small containers, large ones. He just stood out of the way of Hurricane Brooke, his arms folded across his chest, and watched her, a content smile across his face. Once she had set up a buffet of food she turned to face him.

"Don't smile like that at me! With Lindsey in New York, what else are you gonna eat?" she said seriously.

Lucas chuckled lightly. "I could've ordered this myself, ya know. I'm a big boy now."

"Well, being the good friend I am, I was gonna come over and cook…" she continued as she pulled the chairs out for each of them, sliding into one. "But, I decided I'd spare you the trip to the hospital."

Lucas rolled his eyes playfully before sliding into the chair across from her. They each began spooning portions of the food onto their plates. Brooke pulled pieces of broccoli out of the chicken-broccoli dish she had gotten as Lucas reached for the same dish.

"Hey! You better play nice, or I'm gonna cook next time," she giggled as they battled for the largest piece of chicken.

They were comfortable together. It was almost strange how they had picked up so easily since Brooke had only returned a few weeks prior. They could fall into the comfortable rhythm of small talk, yet when there was silence, it wasn't tense or awkward. She still laughed at his stupid jokes, even if they weren't funny, just like she had in high school.

"Oh, come on Lucas… You can't tell me that, after all these years, you still watch Weird Science reruns."

"I actually have the DVDs," he admitted shyly, causing her to throw her head back and laugh, her dimples full-fledged even from that angle. "Oh now you're such a big shot? Funny, coming from the girl who called squirrels 'squellers' until she was a freshman…"

"Lucas!" she hissed, trying to hide her smile. She couldn't believe he remembered that. "You know that's a sensitive subject!"

He watched her eat, forking small pieces of vegetables in her mouth. But most of her food still remained on her plate, thrown around from its original positions. It had been an hour of laughing and small talk, yet as he began to clear his plate, hers was still left nearly filled.

But he didn't dare comment on it. That wasn't his place anymore.

After they had cleared the table together and stuffed the half-full containers of Chinese food into the refrigerator ("You better eat this all by the time Lindsey gets back," Brooke threatened with a small smile as she crouched in front of the refrigerator, putting the extra rice containers away. "Or I will_ seriously_ cook for you."), the pair settled on the couch, Lucas flipping through channels trying to find something to watch.

"Luke," Brooke whined, dragging out the word. "I don't wanna watch _this_!" she said, pointing to the basketball game Lucas had settled on. "Can't we _talk_? Is that so out of the question? Ever think that maybe I had a purpose in coming here?" she hinted.

Lucas turned his attention away from the TV, flicking it off. All she had to do was ask and all of his attention was hers. "What's going on?" he asked, his face bubbling with concern and sudden seriousness.

She couldn't help but smile crookedly. He was always going to have that hero complex, but now, it was going to belong solely to Lindsey.

She sat silently for a moment, closing her eyes and allowing her thoughts to get the best of her. She could've been the one who he was engaged to. If she had put her own feelings before everyone else's, she wouldn't have had to break up with him. But she had. It was her nature.

"What's on your mind, Pretty Girl?"

The nickname came out naturally, but unintentionally and it forced her to open her eyes quickly in shock. He looked taken aback as well, worried even. Where had that come from? He hadn't called her Pretty Girl since the last time they were together. He had almost forgotten the nickname until now… _almost_.

She chuckled nervously, breaking the silence. "It's been awhile since you called me that," she remarked as if reading his mind, twirling the ruby ring that rested on her left ring finger to keep herself occupied.

His blue eyes were piercing and perceptive, so instead of meeting them, she focused on her ring.

He ignored the comment. "Do you ever wonder if we chose the right paths?" he asked suddenly. Brooke's nickname had brought him back to the past and reminded him of something Peyton had told him about Brooke a day earlier. It had been bothering him ever since. He wasn't sure what he wanted her to say, but the question's been on his mind constantly lately. Ever since he proposed to Lindsey, actually. It felt right to be with her, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if Lindsey was his _one_. One. _One in six billion_. How could he be sure? How could _anyone_ be sure?

"Sometimes… Sometimes I feel like this isn't my life," she laughed nervously. "I have it all, Luke…" Her face became more serious now. "The money, the fame… I'm doing what I love. But why doesn't it feel right?"

He ran his hand through his hair, and she couldn't help but grin, her dimples playing on her face. "You still do that, huh?" she asked, not waiting for his answer to her previous question.

"Haven't ever stopped," he admitted. "Some habits are just hard to break."

She nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. Like the habit she had of checking her e-mail for Lucas's little quirky notes even after they had finished picking out Lindsey's engagement ring. Like the habit she had of re-reading the chapters dedicated to her in Lucas's book whenever she was feeling particularly alone. Like the habit she had of reaching over her bed each morning only to find that the other side was empty.

Yes, she knew all about unbreakable habits.

"Maybe you need something more than the material things," he suggested, referring to her previous comment.

She can't feel this way. With each day that passed, she's missed him more. The more she missed him, the more she worked, hoping it would distract her from the chunk of her heart that was purely made up of memories and his eyes. The more she worked, the thinner she got. It was a vicious cycle, but now that he was marrying Lindsey, it had to end.

"Brooke, I have to ask you a question," he stated suddenly.

She nodded for him to continue.

"I need the truth."

She gulped, hoping that he didn't know her well enough to realize how much she missed him. How much she needed him. She nodded.

"Did you break up with me because Peyton told you she had feelings for me?"

There it was, out in the open. For the first time since Peyton had told her, the statement resurfaces and it scared her. She had hoped that maybe she could put it back to her mind, that the _real_ reason for her leaving Lucas could be a secret between her and Peyton, never to be mentioned again. But no, Peyton had to let that last droplet of trust spill out also. She felt her cheeks flame, partially in anger, partially from embarrassment. When it came to Lucas, it was if Peyton had no bounds; she'd say anything, do anything, be anyone Lucas wanted her to be, even if that meant hurting Brooke.

She bowed her head down, ashamed that she had let Peyton come between the two of them. He saw her face, filled with regret and knows that it's true.

"How could you do that, Brooke?" he questioned, almost in a whisper, realizing that what Peyton had told him was true. He moved in closer to her; close enough to reach out and touch her, to smell her; far enough to keep her here, to keep her from running away again. Her legs were tucked underneath her small frame, and suddenly she felt like curling into a ball and crying over her numerous regrets as she had so many times before. It _had_ been cowardly of her. She should've fought for him – for _them_ and their love – the way he had fought for her…

She looked up at him, his eyes narrowed as he put the pieces together. It's almost as if he has an epiphany before her eyes. Everything was starting to make sense. The pieces finally fit. His eyes lit up, darting back and forth, across her face and across memories she couldn't see, but memories that she shared.

Now he can understand why she pressured him to be with Peyton, why she was so supportive. The feeling tears at his heart, and it makes him question if there's any kind of justice in the world, if there's any prize for the people who deserve it most.

He had cheated on Brooke. He had stayed close with Peyton when he knew, subconsciously, that Peyton would always have feelings for him. He had gone back to Peyton after Brooke had left him senior year. Yet, somehow, he had found someone who filled the majority of the emptiness within his heart. After all of his mistakes, he was happy. Not fulfilled, but happy enough to make it from day to day.

But what about Brooke? What did she get? Clothing. Clothing that could warm your body, that could make you feel beautiful and confident. But clothing didn't keep your heart warm. It didn't protect you your cheating boyfriend and your duplicitous best friend. Fabric was only so thick.

"You… you always do this, Brooke," he stated, stumbling over his words. And she had. She had always put everyone else's needs and desires before her own. It was her nature, and he knew that. It was one of the things he loved about her. But he had been so convinced that their love was strong enough to make her want to stay despite the cost.

The irony almost makes him laugh in a twisted way. The girl who gave up everything for the people she loved, for the friend who wanted her boyfriend, for the boy who had cheated on her, who never got the love or truths she deserved, even from her parents, ends up with everything except for someone who loves her back all the way. A way in which he never seemed to get right.

"I-… I just couldn't do that to her," she said, speaking for the first time. Her voice is meek and for the first time since she's been home, it matches her small body. "She just had been through so much, and I saw how she looked at you…"

The word vulnerable popped into his head.

Brooke Davis would never be characterized as vulnerable.

"I tried pretending that everything was okay for such a long time… And then I found out about the kiss in the library and I just… I guess I thought I was standing in the way of the happy ending for the boy I loved and the girl I loved," she shrugged.

He's so frustrated at this point that it's digging into his conscience, and his heart, into the pit of his stomach, and he can feel every motion of his internal parts trying to comprehend everything, but he knows that he has to be calm with her. Brooke Davis had a habit of running away, and the last thing he wanted was for her to leave. Not now. Not then. Not ever.

"God," he said, running both hands through his hair, yet again, not knowing what to say next. Suddenly, everything inside him burst, almost making him choke.

"Brooke, don't you get it?!" he yelled, standing up. "_We_ were the happy ending! You and me, Brooke! When I said I'd love you forever, I meant it, dammit!"

"Luke," she said, reaching her hand out to touch his arm, trying to remain calm.

The image of a stone wall popped into her head.

"People that are meant to be together always find their way in the end, remember? It's been five years. If we were meant to be together..." she trailed off.

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. If they were meant to be together in the first place, people wouldn't have kept pulling them apart. First Karen didn't approve of her and had tried to steer Lucas toward Peyton before she had gotten to know the real fiercely independent, loyal Brooke. Then, Lucas cheated with Peyton. Then, Brooke had slept with Chris Keller. Then, Peyton had confessed her feelings… again. Then, Lucas had let Brooke walk away from him without anything more than an "I'm sorry," going back to Peyton a short month later.

She decided it was time to revise her statement from all those years ago. "People that are meant to be together don't always find their way in the end, Lucas," she said shaking her head. "They just don't. There isn't always a reason, but things don't always turn out how you plan. You think you have a love _so strong_ that nothing can come between, but things do. Things and people come between a couple, even if they love each other so much that it hurts, and sometimes, holding on makes sense. But for us? It didn't make sense to keep holding on, Lucas. My heart couldn't stand seeing my best friend look at you with nothing but longing, and my heart couldn't handle watching you two together even if it was just as friends. It started hurting in a bad way… It stopped hurting because I cared about you so much and it started hurting because I felt like I didn't know you anymore."

Her statement breaks his heart, and suddenly, he can't fathom how he has been living without her for all these years.

"Brooke," he said, trying to soothe her.

But it's too late.

Most people wouldn't notice. You really had to know Brooke to know when she was hurting. But he can see she is. Her eyes are suddenly a weaker and they're slightly glazed as tears collect behind them.

"It's my fault," she choked out. She won't cry. She will not cry in front of Lucas Scott. "I should've been selfish for once."

He found the statement to be slightly comical, so he chuckled lightly. She shot him a glare through her watery hazel eyes.

"Let's be honest, Brooke… You couldn't be selfish if someone paid you to be."

She laughed lightly, smiling at the compliment.

"No one's ever tried. Maybe a little money would've kept me around longer," she said, smiling weakly. Would _anything_ have made her stay all those years ago?

She wasn't sure.

It just hurt too much.

He stares at her, her beauty still overwhelming him in the same way it had his freshman year, when she was the popular cheerleader who flirted with teachers and slept with seniors while he had just been the crust on the bread, hardly noticeable. He never thought he would have a chance with her: a chance to touch her, a chance to even speak to her. It had all seemed so far away from who he was.

But that was before he knew who he'd become. And after he had become something, she had followed. Brooke Davis went from a notch on every guy's bedpost to becoming the girl on the Wall of Honor in the main hallway.

They had both come far, and they had both helped each other get there.

"Do you remember who we used to be?" he asked her.

She chuckled lightly. "People don't change. You think they do, but they don't. At the end of the day, you are who you are, and it's probably who you've always been."

He ignored her statement. "You were the girl who got drunk every single weekend, even some week nights, and woke up next to a different guy each time. And I was the guy who sat with Haley in the back of the cafeteria hoping that Nathan wouldn't notice me or make a snide remark."

"And somewhere along the way, you became Lucas Scott, basketball legend, hero to not just Haley, but to Peyton and I, and not only Nathan's brother, but his best friend."

"And what about you?"

"I became Brooke Davis, fashion designer."

The term is so monotonous already: Brooke Davis, fashion designer. Owner of Clothes Over Bro's and BPD. For awhile, fashion was just what she did, and she realized that. But it was now becoming who she was. In her eyes, her fashion could never leave her. Clothing didn't just leave, didn't cheat on you, didn't betray you. It was always there, sitting in your closet, waiting to be touched, to be worn. It was becoming more than what she did. It was all she had.

"But you're so much more than that. It scares me that you don't even realize it sometimes."

"Well, with Victoria telling me that I'm a nothing, it's easy to forget that I'm more than just a name that they mass print onto a bunch of labels."

He shook his head. "Victoria doesn't know you like I do."

Brooke sighed. "This conversation is too serious for me right now. It's giving me a migrane, and it's making me crave a drink… badly."

"I have wine," he suggested, getting up from his seat. Maybe she was right. It didn't have to be so serious. She nodded and watched him walk into the kitchen.

She knew perfectly well what had happened last time they had had a few too many glasses of wine, but that's okay. He's not trying to heal his heart right now, and she has become a master at hiding hers underneath her clothing, her make-up and her forced-laughter.

Wine was the first step to becoming comfortably numb, if only for a night.


	3. Chapter Two

"Do you remember the night you snuck into the backseat of my car

"Do you remember the night you snuck into the backseat of my car?" Lucas asked, refilling the wine glasses before them. In an effort to relive the past without it hurting so much, they had gone through most of the bottle of wine within the half an hour they had been talking.

"The first night that you were on the team that you didn't play like crap?" she asked with a small giggle. "How could I ever forget?"

"Do you remember what you said to me?"

"_I mean, how many moments in life can you point to and say '_That's_ where it all changed?' You just had one."_

"Vaguely," she admitted with a shrug. Of course she had remembered that moment. No, it hadn't been the moment she fell in love with Lucas Scott. It hadn't been the moment where she realized he was something special, something different from the other guys she'd fucked around with. But it was the first time she made an ass out of herself in front of him and the first time he hadn't held it against her… well, at least not completely.

"Well, you asked me, and I quote, 'how many moments in life can you point to and say 'that's where it all changed?'"

"Well, you see," she explained, "that just proves how intelligent I was even when I was Brooke Davis: cheerleader, bimbo, slut," she said, gesturing with her free hand, wine swishing in her glass.

Lucas took another gulp of his wine. He looked down into the contents of the glass, the ruby redness of it absorbing his thoughts along with his inhibitions little by little, drip by drip. "Do you think we always realize when something's changing?"

"No," she admitted. "I don't. But sometimes, you do. That night, everything changed for you." He nodded in agreement. "It was the beginning of an _era_," she smiled.

"Meeting Lindsey wasn't one of those moments," he said as he took yet another gulp. Brooke stared at him quizzically, her eyes narrowed in confusion and some frustration. If Lindsey wasn't the girl for him, why was he marrying her? He knew Peyton had _serious_ feelings for him and he clearly was meant to be with her… wasn't he?

"I mean, meeting her was amazing," he corrected himself. "But it wasn't like that night on the beach with you... remember? Me admitting my feelings for you to you and ten lifeguards?" he chuckled at the memory. It seemed so right at the time, but looking back on it, it was kind of corny in the most ridiculously romantic way. Still, he had meant every word with ever last fiber of his being. "Meeting Lindsey wasn't this big neon sign saying 'She's the _One_.' It wasn't natural chemistry until we spent a lot of time together."

"Maybe it's because she's not _the one_," Brooke suggested, twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger. "What about Peyton?" she asked deviously, almost reading his mind.

"God, why does everyone think we belong together?" he said in frustration, placing his glass on the coffee table with a thud. "Just because we're both blonde and listen to weird music and because we both brood… that doesn't make us _soul_ mates!"

"But you are," Brooke insisted, keeping her façade and nodding her head insistently.

"What ever happened to opposites attracting?" he questioned.

"Clearly, that didn't work," she responded automatically, gesturing between the two of them. "Exhibit A: Brooke and Lucas, junior through senior year."

"I don't want to wake up next to the female version of myself for the rest of my life."

"You're not _totally_ the same," she defended. "I mean, you play basketball. Peyton couldn't score a goal for her life! And hello? You do _not_ own a record label… at least not one that _I_ paid for."

"It's a _basket_, not a goal," he laughed. "And you know what I mean, Davis."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Tortured Artist meets Tortured Athlete. Broody Girl meets Broody Boy. Blondie meets Blondie..er. You should make a damn movie or something," she took another gulp of her drink before releasing a sound that was half hiccup, half forced-laugh.

He sighed and stared at her for a moment, his head crooked in thought. She made a point of not making eye contact with him now that the always dreaded Peyton subject came up. "You're never going to get over it, are you?"

"Get over what?" she asked innocently, half choking on her wine.

"Me cheating on you with Peyton. No matter how good you and Peyton are, no matter how close we've gotten after all the shit we've been through, you're just never gonna let it go," he stated matter-of-factly. "You may love her, but you'll never forgive her… and you'll never completely forgive me either."

Brooke tilted her head back and closed her eyes tightly. Memories of junior year flashed through her head.

_Kissing Lucas in the bar for the first time. The tattoo. _

_The car accident he got into. The poster she made of the things he loved._

_Re-arranging his room to promote healing. Him breaking up with her for no _real_ reason. _

_Her spending time with his mom to try to be around him. _

_Seeing him and Peyton on the webcam._

_Getting back together with Lucas. _

_Finding out about the library._

Tears formed behind her eyelids, but she refused to let herself cry. This night was an emotional rollercoaster, but she would not let it affect her. She was Brooke Davis. She was solid. She held everything together when it fell apart, kept all the couples on track, kept her business going full-steam ahead. She didn't _cry_ anymore. She had given that up when Victoria had come back into the picture. Victoria said crying was _weakness_, so Brooke had become tougher than ever.

She reopened her eyes to find Lucas still waiting for an answer, much to her dismay. "It's not like it only happened one night and then it was over!"

"Brooke, how many times can we go over this? When we first started dating, I didn't have those feelings for you. I didn't know the _real_ you until later that year, and by then you were dating _Felix_." The name came out of his mouth with an unintentional bitter tone. He recalled how much he hated Felix for taking Brooke from him, for torturing Peyton, for just moving to Tree Hill.

"That's not what I mean," she said, shaking her head. "You got back with her after we broke up, too. I mean, you must be meant to be if you keep finding each other."

"I only got back with her because you and the rest of Tree Hill convinced me that we were _'destined'_ to be together!" he retorted, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Because you are!" she argued.

"It doesn't even matter anymore, because I love Lindsey," he stated stubbornly.

"And you're _marrying_ Lindsey. So I guess the final decision in the Brooke-Lucas-Peyton love triangle has been made: we're both kicked to the curb," she giggled, trying to maintain a sense of humor in the situation. It was slightly funny. After going back and forth between the brunette and blonde for years, occasionally flitting around with redheaded Rachel in an attempt to make Brooke jealous, he had finally settled with a strawberry blonde girl. Go figure.

"Ha-ha," he laughed sarcastically. "Very funny."

"Lucas, I'm happy for you and everything. But there's a real reason I came over here. I mean, I would've come at some point before the wedding to spend time with you, but I have to admit that I have a motive for tonight. Especially since Lindsey's gone."

Lucas just stared at her, leaning in slightly as if she was telling a secret, waiting for her to continue.

"I know this is gonna sound crazy," she said, slapping her head softly and running her hand down her cheek. "I mean, I'm only 22 and I have a solid eight more years before I hit panic mode about having a family and a husband and children and a white house with my _own_ red door… But…" she took a breath before continuing, "I-- I want that now. I want to have a baby. _My own baby._ I mean, every time I see Jamie, my heart just leaps, and I love being his Godmother, but it's not the same as having your own, ya know? I want a family. And it doesn't matter that I'm no where _near_ serious with any guy… Bartender Boy doesn't count…" she added, as Lucas opened his mouth to protest, before she continued "…and that I don't have that kind of stability. I mean, I was raised by zero parents and I turned out okay… Or at least I like to think I did…" she rambled, trying to make the words express her true thoughts. The truth was she wanted someone to love, who loved her back, unconditionally. That's what a baby was. Constant love. Someone to be there to, who _needed_ you in a bigger way than you had ever been needed in your life. She wanted that. She hadn't ever had that and she thought she finally deserved someone to wouldn't ever let her down.

"Wow," Lucas said, dumbfounded. He hadn't expected that or anything in the same _zip_ _code_ as that. "Have… have you told Peyton this? Or Victoria? Or anyone for that matter?"

"No," she choked. "It's so irrational when I say it out loud, but in my heart, I _feel_ it. I could be a great mother."

"Can I be completely honest with you, Brooke?" he asked softly, placing a hand on her thigh, sending familiar shivers up her spine; shivers that made her weak enough to nearly collapse into him. "You're going to be a great mom. You don't have to convince _me_. You can be anything, you can do anything," he said with reassurance in his eyes, causing her to smile shyly. "But like you said, you're 22 and you're successful. You're gonna fall in love if you let yourself, and you're going to get married, and you're going to want to have a baby with that husband. If you adopt now, you're going to be so consumed with raising a child that you won't even have time to find that_ love_."

"What if I don't find a guy?" she choked. "What if I end up alone?"

"Come here," he said, holding his arms out, wanting to hold her, to feel her nuzzling into his neck. "You're too young to be worrying about this," he mumbled into her velvety chocolate hair as her head fell into his chest. "You're so special, Brooke. If Owen doesn't see it, then he's blind. But for now, you have great friends, a successful business and me whenever you need to talk. Just give the love thing and the baby thing some time."

"I was hoping you'd say all of that," she admitted, smiling shyly into his chest. "I mean, I want kids, and I want a family… but I think I just really want _love_, you know? Mind-blowing, electric love."

She pulled back from his embrace and smiled at him. "It's weird that we had something like that at one time," she chuckled nervously, prodding at the subject.

It was weird. Everyone remembered Peyton and Lucas's relationship, everyone remembered every last detail, but no one ever brought up the history he and Brooke shared. It was pushed to the side, a mere mistake in Lucas's history that was just an obstacle in getting to Peyton. Their relationship was a secret between the two of them, the simple meeting of eyes being able to trigger a flood of memories that left each of them breathless at times. No one ever discussed how Lucas had completely altered Brooke, changed her permanently and for the better. No one ever remembered that Lucas had been the one who promised her forever _first_, only to leave Brooke alone, more guarded than ever. It was all a blip in history, a mistake, a whirlwind of lust and temporary love that was broken the second his _fate_, in the form of a blonde curly-haired girl, came back into the picture. Lucas and Peyton had been meant to be since day one. Brooke had just been a distraction.

"I'll always love you, Brooke," he admitted. "You were my first…" he stumbled, trying to find the right words, "my first everything, really."

"Well, hate to bruise your ego Luke, but you definitely weren't my '_first_,'" she chuckled, placing a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze in mock consolation. Lucas rolled his eyes at her, knowing that she had been quite promiscuous in high school. "_But_, if it makes you feel any better, you were the first guy that _mattered_… and I think that totally beats all my other firsts."

"My ego thanks you," Lucas teased, causing Brooke to laugh throatily. She regained herself, and looked at him in the eye.

"You better figure out your heart soon, Lucas, or someone else's is gonna get broken," she stated. She smiled softly, finished her glass of wine and went to the kitchen to pour herself and Lucas more, leaving Lucas, momentarily, alone with his thoughts.


End file.
